


beauty is in the eye of the beholder

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Keith, M/M, MODEL SHIRO, minor misunderstandings of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 15:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12609428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: Shiro's a model for this figure drawing class and there's a guy there that heswearshates him.Butdoes he really?





	beauty is in the eye of the beholder

**Author's Note:**

> [Holy schmolly have you SEEN this BEAUTIFUL shiro fanart yet?????](https://twitter.com/fier_ce_/status/925765133397237760)
> 
>  

Thanks to the exorbitant payout he got from the military after his honorable discharge, Shiro doesn’t have to worry about holding down a proper job for the rest of his life. After investing the money in a couple of reliable places, Shiro’s got enough money every month to comfortably get by. But to stay busy, Shiro holds a couple of part time jobs.

 

His first job is the morning shift at a nearby florist shop. Shiro enjoys the feeling of being productive as soon the day starts. The second job is being a model for an art class held at the local community college. Though, he’s got to admit, that’s less of a job and him doing an old friend a favor. 

 

Whatever gets him out of the house he supposes. All he has to do is “sit there and look pretty,” which had sounded easier when his friend had sold the task to him. In the end though, there’s nothing easy about sitting in one positions for the entire duration of an art class. The only he can do, and it’s a poor attempt at staying busy, is to study the people surrounding him.

 

Their ages vary, ranging from elderly to what is surely a 15 year-old. Shiro’s least favorite person is a blond guy who keeps tutting under his breath. It’s sporadic and thoughtless and makes Shiro twitch every time. After him, there’s only one other guy who has caught Shiro’s attention. 

 

This guy is closer to age, if Shiro had to make a guess. He’s got shaggy dark hair, deep blue eyes, and a glare that nervously makes Shiro wonder how he’s pissed the guy off. Which is impossible because they’ve never met so how can this guy be mad at him? And Shiro  _ knows  _ he’s mad at him because that’s the only expression he ever directs at Shiro. 

 

Hell, it’s directed at his face right now. In fact, this guy’s expression has grown steadily thunderous as the three-hour long class as progressed.

 

_ I’m going to ask him today though,  _ Shiro decides regardless as the teacher flits around him to finalize his last pose. He’s naked save for the hot pink swath of cloth he’s wearing like a shawl. Only difference is, the teacher pulls at the back until the cloth dips dangerously low against his back. Shiro wonders if the people sitting behind him can see his ass yet or not. 

 

She sweeps Shiro’s long hair over his right eye, using her fingers to artfully tussle the silky strands until she’s satisfied. 

 

“Perfect,” the teacher nods to herself before turning to the class. “Last pose of the day people. You have 30 minutes. Please start.”

 

Shiro’s not sure if he’s grateful or not for facing this guy because well. He’s only getting more pissed as the minutes tick by and that’s making Shiro increasingly nervous. Shiro watches this guy’s fingers fly across the paper before he grumbles, aggressively rubs some lines away, tries again, lather, rinse, repeat. He’s starting to worry this guy won’t have anything to show for his efforts by the time the thirty minutes are up. 

 

But Shiro’s proven wrong because in between all the scowling and glaring, erasing and redrawing, the man  _ has  _ put something together. Enough to earn the teacher’s praise. And yet, Shiro notes as he hurriedly redresses, this guy doesn’t seem pleased by the praise. He looks disgruntled by it actually.

 

Shiro’s relieved to see that the guy doesn’t hurry out with the rest of the class. In fact, he approaches the teacher and talks to him for a couple of minutes. That’s the exact amount of time Shiro needs to tie his hair back in a loose ponytail, grab his things, and wait for this guy (Keith, he overhears the teacher calling him) two steps away.

 

As soon as they’re done, the teacher turns to him with a smile, “What is it Shiro?”

 

But he shakes his head hard, “Sorry. I was waiting for him.” 

 

“Who, Keith?” 

 

The man in question blinks in surprise at Shiro before asking, “Me?”

 

Shiro nods bashfully, waiting for the teacher to give them some space before quietly asking, “Have we met before?”

 

Dark brows dip down in a furrow, “No.”

 

“Then uh, I hope you don’t mind me asking why you’re always so mad at me.”

 

Red splashes across pale cheeks and those pretty dark blue eyes slide away in obvious embarrassment. Keith crosses his arms across his chest and mutters, “I’m not mad at  _ you _ .” 

 

“But you’re always glaring at me...” Shiro points out, sounding more confused than judgemental at this point.

 

With a vehement shake of his head, Keith says, “I’m mad at myself because I can’t capture your beauty properly.”

 

Shiro feels heat gathering in his cheeks at the compliment. Before his accident, many people would compliment him on his good looks. But now... no one says that to him. They’re too put off by the huge scar on his nose. And if they get past that, there's his bionic right and. _And then_ , there’s the burn marks and other fading scars on his body. 

 

Beautiful is the last adjective people use for him now.

 

He grows increasingly flustered as Keith flips his sketchbook open and shares his drawings, explaining for every piece what he could have done better. Personally, Shiro can’t tell how to improve the beautiful sketches and watercolors. Furthermore, he’s struck by the odd sensation that... Keith  _ genuinely  _ finds him to be beautiful. It’s clear in how carefully each line and brush stroke has been applied to paper. 

 

His eyes are drawn to Keith’s serious expression. Shiro wonders what is it that Keith sees in him that he’s trying too hard to capture it on paper.

 

“Ms. Jones said maybe I need to shift mediums but I don’t think that’s gonna help.” Keith talking away, frowning deeply at the sketches he’s made today. “There’s something about you that’s hard to pin down on paper. Something in your eyes.”

 

Oh how he wishes he hadn’t tied his hair back because Shiro needs something to hide behind. Flustered, Shiro laughs weakly, “They’re just my eyes.”

 

“No,” Keith corrects him firmly. “They’ve got a lot of depth to them. It’s like you see things but also see beyond them. I dunno. I’m not too good with words.”

 

He laughs again, stronger this time. “You’re doing pretty well actually.” It’s a struggle not to shuffle shyly when Keith’s surprised look turns into a bashful half smile. 

 

Oh  _ jeez _ , Shiro thinks, hopelessly enamoured by that bashful half smile. He doesn’t understand why Keith’s saying  _ he’s  _ beautiful when he himself is drop dead gorgeous.  

 

Swallowing hard, Shiro tightens his grip on his bag before taking the plunge. 

 

“Do you want to go out for a coffee maybe?” 

 

Keith’s eyes widen in surprise as he asks, “You want to go out for a coffee? With me?  _ Why _ ?”

 

It’s said in the tone of a man who isn’t used to be asked out. Which, is a difficult concept for Shiro to swallow given Keith’s straightforward but earnest nature and attractive looks.

 

Shrugging shyly, Shiro answers truthfully, “I’d like to get to know you better.”

 

With a surprised shake of the head, Keith closes his sketchbook and stuffs it into his bag with a quiet, “Okay but there isn’t a lot to tell.”

 

“Let’s find out then,” Shiro takes a step towards the door, happiness bubbling up in him when he sees Keith falling into step. He’s got the good feeling about this. To quote that old movie, this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship. 


End file.
